


Never Close Our Eyes

by ladyamesindy



Series: People Like Us [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Character Death Implied, Dancing, Drabbles, Grief, Kissing, M/M, Pining, sad/hurt feelings, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy
Summary: An assortment of writing promts and drabbles for Rhys Shepard and Kaidan Alenko.This is a canon divergent universe: Rhys Shepard is a doctor of prothean studies who is 2 years older than the canon Shepard and never joins the military.  He is a bioitic who meets Kaidan Alenko at BAaT when they are teenagers.Song:  Never Close Our Eyes  (Adam Lambert)
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard
Series: People Like Us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112858
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. By the Campfire/Longing

**Author's Note:**

> kiss prompt: By the campfire/longing
> 
> mShenko
> 
> Rhys Shepard, Kaidan Alenko
> 
> OTP: People Like Us

“So, this is the Wild West, huh?”

Rhys snorts softly and feeds a log to the campfire. When he retakes his seat a moment later, Kaidan hands him a bottle of beer. They clink them together quietly in a wordless toast. Only then does Rhys take a long pull. “As wild as Wyoming can get these days, I suppose.” 

The fire flickers as a stiff breeze blows through. Rhys tilts his head to the sky, inhaling deeply. The chill in the air hints at a threat of a storm, but they have the small cabin to retreat to if it comes to that. For now, conditions are safe enough they can sit outside and enjoy the mostly clear skies and breathtaking view of the stars above. Using the log behind him as a back rest, he settles down and chuckles softly. “Surely you have views like this back home?”

Sitting to Rhys’ right and using the log as his perch, Kaidan rests his arms across his legs as he hunches forward and nods. “We do. Dad and I used to go camping sometimes when I was younger. Cat Peak, Gold Peak.” His voice is low, thoughtful, but there is a hint of a smile on his lips as he stares into the fire. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

 _A lifetime._ Rhys cannot hide the ripple of a shiver that chases down his spine. _Before BAaT_. _A lifetime and a half ago._ A question tumbles around inside his head, but for now he keeps it to himself. They are friends, good friends even; without Kaidan, Rhys might not have made it out of Jump Zero alive, and vice versa. But that said, there are some lines he refuses to cross no matter how close they were, or are. _How long has it been? Two years since we last talked or saw one another? A lot has changed since then._

So, instead he falls back upon a topic that arose during their initial meeting nearly five years ago. “Canada, huh? Ever find any dinosaurs up there?”

Silence returns briefly until it is broken by a bark of laughter. “I swear, you have dinosaurs on the brain! Do you ever study anything else?”

Affecting a look of disappointment and hurt, though he feels anything but, Rhys half-turns toward him to protest. “Hey, now! It’s a fair question. I mean, _I_ found one around here when I was a kid. Why not you? You live in an area that is well known for them!”

“Actually, I don’t,” Kaidan replies around a laugh. “Most have been found in Alberta, not BC. East of us, next province over.”

Rhys scowls. “You just didn’t look hard enough or in the right places!”

“I didn’t look for them at all,” Kaidan reiterates around another soft snort. “That’s _your_ thing, not mine.”

“What _was_ your thing then?”

“Hockey.”

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Rhys collapses back against the log. “Of course, it was.” 

Kaidan uses his knee to nudge into Rhys’ shoulder a moment later, still laughing. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“A typical _Canadian_ thing,” Rhys corrects. 

“I’m sorry?”

“As is that!” Rhys downs the rest of his bottle and sets it aside before jumping to his feet. 

Kaidan’s laughter is not so silent nor subtle as he drinks. “And you aren’t stereotypical?” he challenges, then points at Rhys with the neck of his beer bottle. “Your cowboy hat is at the top of the list. So’s your coat.”

Brushing his hands over the lined denim jacket, Rhys’ scowl darkens. “This coat is really warm, perfect for the conditions out here. And this hat,” he lifts it into his hand and runs the fingers of his other hand around the edge of the brim, “was a gift. I like this hat, thank you very much.” He tries to take a step forward, but the world starts to spin around him and he throws both hands out to regain his balance, nearly losing the hat into the fire. 

Kaidan snickers. “What about those boots?”

Lips pursing into a thin line, Rhys focuses on the tips of his well-worn cowboy boots. “Comfortable. Don’t you dare make fun of my boots!” He reaches over and slams his hat down on top of Kaidan’s head as an afterthought.

“Hey!”

Kaidan’s protest triggers a giggle from Rhys who pulls up his omni-tool in a quick motion. “Look at me!” His friend obliges without hesitation, allowing Rhys to snap a picture of him in the hat. 

Apparently, it is the wrong action to take? Kaidan lunges toward him and the omni-tool, but the hat falls down over his eyes and he stumbles before makes it. For just a moment, time slows around them. Rhys’ lungs seize up as the predicament becomes clear, and he reacts out of instinct, tossing out a protective field of energy that wraps around his companion to not only stops his momentum, but hold him in place until Rhys grasps him by the arm and tugs him away from the edge of the fire. 

What he does not expect as they end up eye to eye, nose to nose, is the immediate rush of heat to his cheeks or the flutter of butterflies inside his chest. Swallowing past a sudden tightness in his throat, he reaches up to flick the underside of the brim of his hat with his fingers just enough so Kaidan’s whiskey-colored gaze meets his. His breath catches in his chest and he freezes like a deer caught in crosshairs of a rifle.

But where Rhys expects to find the situation become one of embarrassment or awkwardness, he instead is met by something completely unexpected. He swears the look meeting his is the same one from BAaT in those last days before everything fell apart around them; the one that left Rhys’ tongue tied at the most inconvenient and embarrassing moments … 

From one moment to the next, the distance between them – or what little remains of it – closes. Kaidan slides a hand around the back of Rhys’ head, fingers combing through his hair yet carefully avoiding his amp port. At the same time, Rhys grasps Kaidan by his hips, slipping his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. His gaze drops to Kaidan’s lips as he notices the scars at the corner twitch slightly. Warm breath fans across his face and somewhere around them, a soft moan echoes. Who it comes from, he has no idea.

“Kaid –?”

The first touch of their lips is brief, hesitant, as if testing the water before diving into a pool. But what starts as a gentle, slow, and searching shifts to something far more scorching and desperate in the beat of a heart. Jolts of electricity sizzle through him, leaving no limbs, no nerves untouched. The kiss lasts only for a moment, but when Kaidan pulls away and touches their foreheads together, Rhys is left gasping loudly for breath. 

“Rhys …”

Opening his eyes, Rhys shakes his head just enough to cut him off. “Don’t,” he pleads.

Kaidan appears rattled. “Look, I’m sor-.”

Hands still in Kaidan’s pockets, Rhys tugs his hips as close as he can, swallows tightly, then murmurs, “Do it again …”


	2. I trust you with my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writing prompt: I trust you with my life
> 
> mShenko
> 
> Rhys Shepard, Kaidan Alenko
> 
> setting: ME1 - Therum mission

“I want to go with you.”

Half dressed in his armor, Kaidan freezes and turns to stare over at Rhys in disbelief. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” Rhys walks over to his locker, the one Williams assigned him once they were back aboard the ship, and yanks out the lightweight armor she had placed inside at the time. He has no idea how good it is, but it _has_ to be better than civilian clothing which is what he wore last time out on Eden Prime. Williams promised to have it ready to go the next time the team headed out. A quick look in her direction right now results in a subtle nod of affirmation. _Good to go._

“Rhys, you are a _civilian_!”

Leave it to the man to throw Rhys’ own words back in his face at a time like this. He is going to regret this, but it cannot be helped. Grinning over at the man, he hangs his black Stetson on the hook in the back of his locker. “You’re the one who recruited me to be on this mission.”

“As a prothean specialist, not as a combatant!”

“Well, too bad. You’ve got me.” He is half-dressed when Sara approaches him and makes a couple of small adjustments. He smiles his thanks at her before adding to Kaidan, “Besides, you need me.”

The commander snorts in disbelief, turning to walk over to the armory and gather his weapons. “How do you figure that?”

Rhys sits to tug on his boots. Sara and Williams now head over to the armory. “First, this is a prothean dig site; my area of expertise.”

“You’ve been here before?” Garrus asks from his seat next to him.

Rhys shakes his head negatively. “Not this particular site, no. But that leads me to a second point; I know the person you are looking for.”

Save for the air recycling systems and the hum of the _Normandy’s_ drive core, the cargo bay falls silent. “Wait - you _know_ Dr. T’Soni?” Kaidan retraces his steps. “How well?”

Rhys shrugs as he stands up and grabs his helmet. “We met at a conference about a year and a half ago,” he explains. “Our areas of expertise are slightly different, but she was one of the few people there willing to listen to me and my theories on prothean language and communication.” He does not bother to explain she is, essentially, in the same boat he is in that they are both so young and relatively new in their fields that trying to get their voices heard is like screaming into the Void. 

“Would you say you got along well, then?” Kaidan asks next. More of a demand, really, but softer around the edges.

Rhys faces him and walks backward toward the armory sporting his most charming and slightly lopsided of smiles. “Hey, you know me, Alenko.” He comes to a stop when Sara grabs his arms from behind to keep him from running into the work desk. “Thanks, Ryder.”

She chuckles softly as she releases him. “Anytime, Doc.”

Williams hands over the shotgun he used on Eden Prime and a pistol, showing him how to stow it on the mag harness on his armor. “You’re good to go, Doc.” Her grin is reassuring, at least.

They all head toward the Mako, clambering inside until Kaidan steps in front of Rhys to block the hatch. “As much experience as you have with a shotgun, you aren’t a trained soldier, Rhys,” he says. “I can’t in good conscience let you be a part of the ground team.”

Rhys lifts his hand and draws a bit of dark energy around it while staring pointedly at it. “I can take care of myself well enough.” His grin shifts to something slightly more feral while turning to meet his. “Just ask those flashlight heads on Eden Prime.”

Kaidan sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “You are still a civilian,” he argues. “I need people with me who will follow the orders I give, not debate over every little thing.”

A ripple of irritation flutters down his spine. “I know how to follow orders, Kaidan,” he replies, voice low, dark. “I was at BAaT, too, remember?”

They stare at one another for a long minute; Rhys is the first to waver this time. “Look, I can’t put it more plainly than this, Alenko: I trust you with my life. Is that good enough for you?”

Kaidan is silent for another moment, but finally nods. “It will have to do. But just so you know, I’m considering this a trial run. This is in no way a guarantee that you will get to go on other ground missions.”

Flashing a grin, Rhys ducks around him and enters the Mako. “You bet, _commander_.”


	3. In a vehicle/sad/hurt feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kissing prompt: In a vehicle - sad/hurt feelings
> 
> MShenko
> 
> Rhys Shepard, Kaidan Alenko
> 
> vehicle = the Normandy
> 
> Set at the beginning of ME3, just after Mars

The door to the MedBay opens with a soft whoosh, but Kaidan does not hear it over the rapid thudding of his heart. His entire world focuses on the gurney ahead of him, a place where he can lay the man he carries, and hope to hell he can find a way to stabilize him until they can get proper medical help. 

_Fucking Cerberus!_

A shift of blue and white movement blurs in the corner of his vision as he gently lays Rhys onto the gurney, hands automatically moving to evaluate his condition. 

“We need to get him to the Citadel for help,” Liara announces.

Logically, Kaidan knows she is correct. But, leaving Earth in such a hurry, the _Normandy_ is without a doctor, a medical team of any kind … except for him. He pauses as his omni-tool runs a medical scan and combs his free hand through his hair. _Best I can do is patch him up and hope for the best. This is far beyond my capabilities …_ He taps his comms and orders, “Joker, get us to the Citadel, ASAP!”

“ _Aye, commander!_ ”

Sparing his asari friend a quick glance, he gestures across the room where Vega stands with the incapacitated Cerberus infiltration unit. “Help him with that … _thing_. See if there’s anything you can salvage from it.” 

She hesitates before turning away and he looks at her. There’s concern there; for him, for Rhys, for everyone, he suspects, but there isn’t time right now. The Reapers are suddenly a very _real_ thing, not just theory, and they have no plan, no course of action. _Yet._

Softening some, he adds, “Please, Liara? I’ll do what I can for Rhys, but we need to figure out if we retrieved anything from the Archives that can help us.”

Liara nods and finally moves away.

Turning back to Rhys, Kaidan fights back the raging and roiling emotions deep inside as best as he can while he works. The last time he felt this angry, this conflicted about something and had it all focused on one single person, he and Rhys were at BAaT. _If I ever find you, Illusive Man, I will_ gladly _show you_ exactly _how that turned out!_

It does not take long to get Rhys hooked up to the necessary medical equipment. The soft, level beeps for his biometrics are a harsh sound in the quiet room, but still welcome. Thankfully, the ship is properly stocked with both equipment and medicines. He finds medigel, anti-inflammatories and a few other necessities easily. 

Inside his head, it’s a far different story. He slams the door to the _what if?_ section of his brain for now – those thoughts have to wait until later. He can’t spare a second of self-doubt or self-recrimination, not when Rhys’ very survival hangs in the balance, hangs on _him_. _Just like the rest of the galaxy …_

By the time he has everything set, the MedBay is empty but for him, Rhys, and the body of the infiltration unit. “EDI,” he calls out, exhaustion and stress nipping at his heels, “see if you can’t find someone to come down and sit with Dr. Shepard until we get to the Citadel?”

“ _Of course. Commander, Admiral Hackett is calling in on the QEC for an update._ ”

Kaidan sighs heavily, head dropping to rest against his chest. He still hasn’t had the chance to change out of his armor yet. “I’ll be there in a moment. Just get someone down here now, please?”

“ _Understood._ ”

Kaidan gently takes Rhys’ hand in his, holding it close to his chest for a long minute, near his heart. “Hang in there, Rhys,” he murmurs, brushing some of his hair away from the gash he’d received. “We’ll have you under proper medical care soon. When you wake up, you can give me hell about how you’re a civilian and I can’t recruit you for some _damn fool crusade_ again ...” His voice trails off as a lump builds in the back of his throat. 

Leaning forward, he brushes a soft kiss to Rhys’ forehead, holds it a moment but careful to avoid the injury. “Hold on, Rhys!” he breathes. “I know we’ve had our differences over the years, but I need you around. I – I can’t do this without you!” He sniffs a bit, uses his free hand to wipe away a stray tear slowly rolling down the side of his nose. The doors behind him whoosh open softly. Carefully, he rests Rhys’ hand across his chest and turns to find a young woman in an Alliance uniform enter. “Specialist …?”

“Traynor, commander. Samantha Traynor,” she replies, saluting smartly.

He returns the salute without thought. “I need to you to keep an eye over Dr. Shepard while I take a call from Admiral Hackett.”

She nods. “Of course, commander.” 

Kaidan dares one last look over his shoulder at Rhys, hopeful for some sort of positive reaction but not surprised when he doesn’t receive one. “Call me immediately if his condition changes in any way,” he adds as he walks toward the exit. He pauses there, looking back one last time. “And I mean _any_ way. Understand?”

Traynor nods. “Understood, commander.”

Without another word, Kaidan exits the room and heads towards the elevator. There is a war on that requires his attention, though god alone knows how the hell they’ll fight it ….


	4. This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writing prompt = This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me
> 
> Setting: Mid-late ME3

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Rhys ignores Kaidan’s comment and instead carefully juggles the books, OSDs, and handful of datapads stacked atop one another in his arms. Weight-wise, it isn’t too bad; numbers-wise, it’s awkward as hell. Then again, what self-respecting grad student doesn’t learn how to balance half a library at a time while in school, right? “If the elevator wasn’t so slow, it wouldn’t be an issue,” he counters before darting a narrowed gaze over at his companion. “Then again, you _could_ help.”

A smirk twists across Kaidan’s lips as he leans back against the wall and folds his arms over his chest. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Rhys rolls his eyes, subtly shifting the balance so things don’t spill all over the floor. “You _would_ see it that way.”

One OSD slides precariously to the edge of the top tome. As it topples over, Rhys’ breath catches … only to be swallowed back when a small bubble of dark energy wraps around it protectively before it hits the floor. 

Kaidan grins, hand extending to grab the device which he then sets back on top of the books with the rest. “How many times have I told you, you have dinosaurs on the brain. Why do you even need –.”

The lift comes to a stop and Kaidan exits. Rhys follows. “This isn’t dinosaurs, and you know it!”

Laughter fills the entryway as Kaidan unlocks the door to his cabin. He at least has the decency to stand to the left, out of Rhys’ way to let him inside. “Protheans, dinosaurs … what’s the difference?”

“Several hundred million years!” Rhys says in exasperated professional frustration.

The laughter continues as Rhys descends to the lower level, barely managing to get over to the coffee table where he unceremoniously dumps everything on the surface. Turning to face up toward the office area where Kaidan is, he peers through the glass of the display case, between the models. 

Kaidan meets his expression with another laugh. “At least the prothean’s don’t bite?”

Rhys snorts. “No, well, you’d have to ask Javik about that, in all honesty.” It takes a second for the words to register, even in his own head, but he notices about the same time that Kaidan does. Kaidan’s groan of protest leaves him grinning and snickering softly in reply. “Aha!”

Kaidan’s eyes close in protest and he waves a hand at Rhys in a vague sort of manner while turning away. “Don’t. Just … don’t.”

But Rhys isn’t buying it. Working his way back around the coffee table and sofa, he demands, “Don’t what? You’re the one who went there, not me!”

“I did no such thing!” 

“Sure you did.” Rhys lifts his omni-tool, opening the messaging program and typing quickly across the haptic surface. 

Kaidan’s head peers up above the edge of the display case again. “What are you doing?”

Rhys clears his throat and reads the message. “ _Javik, Commander Alenko wishes to know if protheans bite during –._ ”

Kaidan leaps out of his office, practically flying toward the stairs. It’s startling enough to catch Rhys off guard, and his voice trails off. “Don’t you even –!”

Eyes wide – he’s never seen Kaidan that fast, with or without his biotics in play – Rhys’s bewilderment shifts to horror as Kaidan misses his step and starts tumbling. He reacts on instinct, hand moving without conscious thought as he releases a quick wave of dark energy to buffer Kaidan’s fall. Running over, he grasps the other man by his forearm, helping him regain his feet. “Shit, Kaidan!” he breathes, a soft huff of nervous laughter the only sign of his concern. “That is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me at Apollos!”

The moment Kaidan is free of the bubble of energy, Rhys dispels it and they both drop to sit on the steps. It takes another moment for his words to register, and Kaidan is the first to huff softly, but Rhys follows almost immediately. A moment later, they both start laughing like two idiots let loose. Rhys falls over onto Kaidan’s shoulder, and Kaidan grabs him by his upper arm, holding tightly, until they both laugh themselves silly, nearly bouncing down the remaining steps in the process, but eventually calming again. 

Sanity returns slowly, what there is of it anyway, at which point, Kaidan says quietly, “You know I did, right?”

Rhys wipes moisture from his eyes. “Did what?”

“Fall for you. Years ago.” 

Looking over into Kaidan’s dark eyes, Rhys is a bit startled by the admission. Given their crazy up and down relationship over the years, he thought only he had unresolved feelings. “Um … okay?” He pulls back – not more than a few inches, just enough to get a good look at Kaidan’s features, searching them for the truth – and what he sees astonishes him. In a good way, mostly, but there is a bit of an ache in his chest, like too much pressure built up that needs to be released. Running this tongue over dry lips, he manages to stammer, “Wh-why didn’t you ever say anything?”

A hint of pink fills Kaidan’s cheeks and the tips of his ears, and he averts his gaze to stare at his boots while rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. “By the time we met up again, I – .”

Sighing, Rhys shakes his head and reaches over, sliding a hand between Kaidan’s as he clasps them in his lap. “No,” he clarifies quietly, “I mean before you left Wyoming fifteen years ago.” 

Kaidan’s hands twitch, but he does not pull away or push Rhys away. “We were kids.”

Rhys can’t help but snort. “Hardly. We hadn’t been kids since we stepped foot onto Jump Zero.”

“True, but …” Sighing, he runs one hand through his hair but laces the fingers of the other through Rhys’. “Would it have made a difference?”

 _Good question._ “Maybe?” 

“I doubt it.” Kaidan tilts his head sideways to look over at him. “I was a different person then, so were you. What we had was good, don’t get me wrong, but I think …” He bites the corner of his lip. “I don’t think it would have lasted.”

Rhys stares at him, mesmerized. “You’re probably right.”

Several minutes pass in silence, the only sound the soft burble of the fish tank above Kaidan’s head. “You mean, you really had no idea?”

Rhys shakes his head. “Absolutely none. I knew what _I_ felt, but you …?”

Kaidan turns sideways and adjusts his position so he can pull Rhys closer. Rhys, still somewhat stunned, doesn’t struggle; not that he would have. Not when what he’s wanted for so long finally seems … attainable. By the time he rests his forehead lightly against Kaidan’s, leaning into the commander’s hand when his fingers begin running lightly against his jaw, an unexpected calm descends. “So, you fell for me … yeah?”

“Yeah?”

He shifts his head just enough that he can kiss Kaidan, ghosting across where the scars from BAaT no longer reside. “You know what they say, right? Love me, love my dinosaurs.”

Kaidan laughs and leans in for a more thorough kiss. “Especially an old dinosaur like me…”


	5. Wearing Someone's Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intimacy prompts = Wearing someone's clothes
> 
> Setting: Post-Collector attack on the Normandy, SR1
> 
> mShenko
> 
> Rhys Shepard

He doesn’t care what he shoves into his pack at this point, just so long as he has a few changes of clothes. Something appropriate for the weather. Jeans. A sweater. Some t-shirts. Socks and underwear. Grief is a nasty bastard at best, he’s lucky he has enough clarity at the moment to even remember to pack, let alone what. The only items remaining, he’s already wearing. Boots. Hat. Jacket. _Jacket._

Without his permission, Rhys’ gaze is pulled to the peg next to his bedroom door, to a denim jacket from another time. A decade ago. _A lifetime ago._ He stalks over, grimacing as his boots thud heavily against the wooden floor. When within range, he reaches out a hand, but cannot quite force himself to make contact with the fleece lined denim. For a minute, he stands there, staring at it, willing himself to grab it, take it, put it on

_(One sleeve at a time, Rhys …)_

… and he just … he can’t. 

_Kaidan._

Footsteps wander just outside of his room, soft, hesitant. The door is shut – his grandparents have enough to worry about than waste their time over him, especially with how things played out at the memorial. Still, pain blooms in his chest with the knowledge he is pushing his grandmother away. That he does it even though he knows it hurts her like he hurts right now, is unforgiveable and yet he does it anyway. She doesn’t deserve it. 

_Yeah, but neither did I …_

Cursing himself a coward in more ways than one, he makes a fist and punches the jacket into the wall. It does little to soften the blow, save maybe keep him from breaking the bones. When he pulls away, his aching fingers curl around the collar and bring it along. It’s a step in the right direction. Maybe. His gaze drops and he stares at it as it hangs loosely on his fingertips. 

_Why are you still even here? I should have been rid of you years ago, after you left here … but even then, I never could just let you go, could I._

A tight lump in his throat makes swallowing a challenge and he runs his free hand over his face, biting on the knuckle of his index finger to fight back the pain instead. Back then, there’d been plenty of reason to get rid of the damned thing; the disagreement, hurt feelings, a misunderstanding. Stubbornness. All of that and more, followed by years of anger, indifference, regret. But he’d kept the fucking jacket. 

_Why?_

Returning to his pack, Rhys shoves it inside. It’s just material, that’s all. An article of clothing that serves a purpose. But he has one of his own, and that’s good enough for now; new, crisp denim with a thin fleece lining that does very little to protect from the cold. The fabric is still stiff, unused, one that leaves him feeling like he’s wrapped in cardboard. 

In the back of his mind, he can almost hear Kaidan, laughing softly at his indecision, that small smirk curling at his lips that he’d get, the one with just a hint of mischief in it, like he knew more than he let on. Why did it always hurt so much to admit that he did?

_(You always this foolish, Shepard? Wear the damned coat. You know you’re going to need it.)_

A shudder rakes across his shoulders, violent enough to leave his teeth rattling. He reaches for the flap, prepares to yank it up and secure the bag. He needs to get out on the trail so he can reach the cabin before dark, and he still has to saddle up Thunder …

_(Shepard …)_

Without thinking – and maybe that’s the key? – he yanks the jacket back out of his pack, tosses the brand new one on his bed, and pulls the older one on. It’s a little big; Kaidan always was a bit broader in the shoulders than he is, even back before the Alliance, but it fits like a glove. The denim soft, worn, broken in; the fleece, thick and warm. It’s … like having Kaidan’s arms around him again …

His hands move jerkily as he secures the pack, grabs his hat and shoves it on top of his head with a bit of added force. It, too, is new and not yet broken in. Exiting the room, he descends the stairs two at a time, heedless of safety, and stumbles toward the door. 

Evelyn Shepard peers over the upper railing, shouting after him, “Rhys! There’s food on the counter for you – don’t forget to grab it!”

She always thinks ahead, predicts his most likely actions, prepares for any situation. She is quite good at it, too, even when he is in a mood. Like now. _Especially now._ He doesn’t dare try to thank her for fear of breaking, however, and that is something he cannot do yet. Not here, not now.

Before he reaches the barn, Rhys finds Callum Shepard exiting the building, leading his horse outside. “He’s all set to go for you, though you’d do well to double check the straps,” the older man warns, handing over the reins. 

Rhys opens his mouth, attempts to speak, but only nods in the end. It’s been a long time since he last rode. Better safe than sorry. So, he puts the food into the saddle bags, hefts his pack over his back, then mounts, pausing to make minute adjustments to the straps. His grandfather steps forward to tighten one for him; again, Rhys nods his thanks, checks it one last time and only then guides Thunder away. His grandfather, thankfully, does not try to stop him.

His destination is hours distant from the ranch but Rhys rides it on autopilot. Thunder knows the way, has made this trip for many, many years. Rhys needs the time to shut down, to rebuild walls, the ones so easily found last time he was up here. Hell, if he had another place to go this time, he would not be making this journey now, but really, what other choice does he have? He needs space, time alone, some place people won’t hover, protective intentions or not. It doesn’t matter that his most poignant memories of the cabin are the ones of him and Kaidan a decade before. Of the good times and the bad. Despite all of that, or perhaps because of it, it is a safe space, a familiar one, and the only one he can think of where he can _grieve_.

The winds start to pick up as he and Thunder crest the hill. Tucked away in a lightly forested area, there is also a small horse shelter that, like the cabin itself, still stands strong after all these years. He heads there first. Care for Thunder comes before anything else. He pays no attention to how much time passes, but even he recognizes when he is unable to avoid it any longer and makes his way to the cabin. As he unlocks the door, a strong gust of wind nearly blows him over, and it is only years of reflexes that enable him to grab the hat as it flies off his head before it gets out of arm’s reach. The chilly bite in the air leaves his face red and hands cold; not surprisingly, the jacket keeps him warm. 

It’s a good thing, too. The inside of the cabin is freezing. Rhys sets his gear aside for the moment and builds a fire in the fireplace to resolve that issue. He stores the food away – enough to last him a few days, at least, maybe longer if he is careful – then tosses his pack and hat onto the bed. 

Now he has all the time in the world … just not the person he wanted to spend that time with.

_(Get to the life pods, Rhys! Go! We’ll be fine …)_

_We. Dammit, Kaidan, how can there be a ‘we’ without ‘you’?_

Leaning his hips against the footboard of the bed, Rhys covers his face with his hands and slides slowly to the floor. He tugs the edges of the jacket around him, hunches down into it as much as he can, seeking solace he knows he will never find, and finally allows the tears to fall … 


	6. Slow Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intimacy Prompts = Slow Dancing
> 
> mShenko
> 
> Rhys Shepard and Kaidan Alenko
> 
> Setting: mid-late Reaper War (ME3), Normandy
> 
> OTP: People Like Us

Rhys knows something is up when he walks into the cabin and music is playing. Soft, _slow_ music, not the normal up-beat tunes he and Kaidan tend to listen to. That and the room is completely dark except for the fish tank and minimal light that can be seen through the ceiling window. This dark means one of two things, and it isn’t the sleep cycle, so … _This can’t be good._ Frowning, he calls out, just loud enough to be heard, “Kaidan?”

The squeak of movement on the leather cushions of the sofa fills the room. “Down here.” 

It’s definitely Kaidan’s voice, but something about it sounds off. Descending to the lower level, Rhys finds Kaidan lying stretched out on the sofa, one arm over his eyes, the other resting over his waist. Sighing softly, he moves around to sit on the open side. _Not good at all._ “Migraine?” he asks quietly as he takes a seat.

“Tail end of one. That’s why the music’s on.” 

He lifts the hand from his waist and Rhys reaches over to take it, wrapping his around it securely. Scooting a bit closer, Kaidan lifts himself up just enough so Rhys can slide beneath his head and shoulders, offering support. “Better?”

Kaidan’s lips curve in a hint of a smile. “Much.”

“What caused it this time?” Since Cerberus gave him the L5 implant, Kaidan still suffers from the occasional migraine, but rarely due to use of his biotics. 

Kaidan’s hand squeezes tightly around his, just for a second, before releasing. “Nothing for you to worry over.”

Huffing softly, Rhys uses the fingers of his free hand to comb through Kaidan’s hair. “Oh, that isn’t ominous at all. Matter of fact, you tend to use that excuse when you know I _will_ worry –.”

“And then _you_ end up with the migraine.” Kaidan’s lips curve another tic upward. “Better me than you.”

Rhys huffs, practically daring him to continue arguing.

“Trust me, there isn’t anything you could have done about it anyway _except_ get a migraine. It’s a Spectre related thing.”

This time Rhys snorts. “Okay, you’ve got me there. Couldn’t _pay_ me enough to do that job.” 

The music kicks over to another song, still slow, gentle, easy. It is also something familiar, a reminder from days long gone. While there isn’t really anything special about it, other than they both know the song, it does give him an idea. Without moving, he asks, “How close to done is this migraine, do you think?”

Kaidan slides the other arm off his eyes and lifts his gaze to meet Rhys’. With one brow arched – which Rhys finds particularly amusing with his head upside down in his view – Kaidan replies, “Not quite good enough for _that_ yet.”

Rhys can’t stop a soft snicker from escaping and he squeezes Kaidan’s hand again. “Not what I had in mind,” he assures him, “though … physical exertion _is_ involved.” He waggles his eyebrows for good measure. When Kaidan laughs, he grins back.

“Physical exertion, huh?”

“Yup.”

Slowly pushing himself up on his elbow, Kaidan moves into a sitting position with Rhys’ assistance. “Okay, I’ll bite – what do you have in mind?”

Rhys pulls up his omni-tool and presses a button to change the song to a specific one that still fits the same sort of parameters as the ones Kaidan has been listening to. Soft strains of piano echo throughout the room leading into the piece, and he stands up, offering a hand to Kaidan. “You know dancing is supposed to cure what ails you, right?”

Kaidan huffs, a skeptical look in his eyes, but he follows. Rhys moves the coffee table and chairs out of the way before rejoining him. “This … isn’t going to be like it was before shore leave last year, is it?”

“Nope.” To prove his point, Rhys flicks his hat loose and tosses it onto the nearby desk out of the way. “Can’t do much about the boots, but considering the tempo of the song, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Unless you step on my feet,” Kaidan points out. Both glance down; Kaidan’s feet are still safe and secure, clad in Alliance issue boots. The laughter that follows is a good sign.

“Sorry, but I’m not taking my chances against those. Now, come over here.” 

He reaches for Kaidan’s hand, but Kaidan surprises him and tugs his arm, pulling him closer. “Sorry, but I get to lead this time.”

A grin steals across Rhys’ lips. “Is that so?” 

“Yup,” Kaidan replies, mimicking Rhys’ earlier response even as his arms loop around his waist. 

With nowhere else to put them, Rhys lifts his arms around Kaidan’s shoulders, and they quickly fall into an easy, swaying rhythm with the song. He keeps a careful eye on the commander, notices when he winces once or twice, but when Rhys opens his mouth to remind him that they don’t _have_ to do this, Kaidan shakes his head. “I’m good.”

For the first half of the song, they move together in silence, the ebb and flow of the song guiding them easily enough. About halfway through, Kaidan asks, his voice in that deep register that sends the sweetest shivers through Rhys, “How did you learn to dance so well?”

It’s all he can do to manage a casual shrug. “Just … sort of what we did, I guess. School dances, gatherings at the ranch, that sort of thing. If you learn one way, it’s pretty easy to learn another. All you’re doing is moving around to the beat of the song.”

“All you’re doing, he says,” Kaidan teases. “At least this kind of dance doesn’t involve … what do you call them? Heel digs, shuffles, and crossovers?”

Rhys nods as he chuckles. “Close enough. And you were quite good at it, once you stopped thinking so hard about the steps.”

A hint of color fills Kaidan’s cheeks, but he does smile. “You’re a good teacher.” His hands slide down from Rhys’ waist to tuck into the back pockets of his jeans. 

Snickering softly, Rhys leans forward to whisper in Kaidan’s ear, “Having a Wrangler moment again, Kaid?” He laughs a little harder as Kaidan’s hands tighten briefly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You are a menace,” Kaidan mutters, but there is fondness in his tone to take any heat out of the words. “Just enjoy the dance, okay? As crazy as things have been of late, chances are we won’t get another opportunity for a while.”

“Definitely enjoying it,” Rhys assures him. Then, more seriously, “And we’ll _make_ opportunities. Not going to miss out on this any more than I have to.”

The song slowly fades out, but Rhys keeps his arms in place, noticing Kaidan does the same; neither wanting the moment to end. “Another one?” 

Kaidan nods. “Why not.”

Rhys taps his omni-tool, a different song queuing up. “Do I get to lead this time?”

Kaidan chuckles and shakes his head. “Not a chance …”


End file.
